


haphephobia

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: He’d only figured it out much later, when Vanessa would pat his back and he would have to force himself to stay still and not run out of the meeting tent, that he had grown even more pathetic than before. And then he’d bargain with himself; he’s stronger now, no longer a kid, he can defend himself now, these are people he trusts (on some level) and they wouldn’t hurt him out of nowhere.





	haphephobia

When Echo places her hand onto his shoulder, he can feel every single one of his muscles tensing, hands balling into fists. It leaves as soon as he turns towards her, hand instead pointing at something back in her workshop. It takes a considerate amount of seconds for Add to finally start tuning in whatever it is she’s saying.

His heartbeat is still through the roof even when she shows him a new concoction of hers.

He’d only figured it out much later, when Vanessa would pat his back and he would have to force himself to stay still and not run out of the meeting tent, that he had grown even more pathetic than before. And then he’d bargain with himself; he’s stronger now, no longer a kid, he can defend himself now, these are people he trusts (on some level) and they wouldn’t hurt him out of nowhere.

It worked, but only belatedly. He couldn’t stop the momentary onslaught of panic that always came with anyone in his personal space.

I may not have brought back the memories like it did at first, when Echo would have one of her rare affectionate moods and hug him as thanks for whatever errand he’d run for her — thank Goddess — but his body never forgot. The feeling of being restrained, hurt without the option of retaliating.

He’d thought he could never stand anyone touching him again.

But then he found Rena’s almost motherly, if not usually annoyed, look so close to his face that he didn’t flinch anymore. It was her shtick, to appear intimidating even when all she wanted was to ask if he hadn’t gotten hurt during a fight.

Aisha hitting him with whatever book she could get her hands on the fastest was no longer threatening, especially knowing she didn’t actually do it out of any malice, but instead of some lack of knowledge of how to act sometimes (something he could understand). She had actually laughed, albeit huffy, when he took the book and hit her back, equally weakly.

Elsword standing on his tiptoes to wring an arm around his shoulder in celebration, the other mirrored on Chung’s, was no longer suffocating. Sometimes Add would even lean over to butt his head against the swordsman’s, usually combined with some remark about him, which would be taken with an unbothered grin.

He supposed Eve didn’t count — she wasn’t even human, and much less hellbent on hurting someone for no reason. Even her slaps had become predictable and easy to duck under.

Ciel had taught him how to dance once, after Ara had tried (and failed spectacularly, somehow managing to trip in a way that ended with her hanging halfway over the balcony. mind you, they had started the ‘lesson’ inside, with a closed balcony door). A hand on his shoulder and hip had triggered a lot of warning bells in his mind, especially doubled with practically nowhere to run away to. Ciel had even laughed at him along the way, but after a while it occured to Add that it wasn’t a malicious laughter, but rather an amused one. The same, however, couldn’t be said about Lu, who watched them both from a corner and decided that jumping onto Ciel’s back and sending him toppling over right on top of Add was a grandiose idea.

At the end of the day, he’d learned and been acceptable enough for the night ball. He’d helped Ciel bake the next day, doing his best. Surprisingly, he didn’t even notice when they bumped shoulders on a few occasions.

Ain had taken ahold of his hand once. He said Elsword told him about this custom — of course — and he wanted to try it. When asked why and if it absolutely had to be it him, Ain just shrugged, saying there was no one around. He hadn’t let go all day, not even when Add flailed around and threw curses at him for hindering his work. Eventually Ain seemed to grow bored of it, going to find Elsword again to ask what was so special about such a stupid custom, finally leaving Add alone in peace.

He had to admit, though, that his now sweaty hand felt a little (a lot) cold after such a long time of holding. Just another type of touch he seemed to be okay with, it seemed.

Raven had let him do maintenance on his arm, on a condition of not taking it apart — which he didn’t quite understand, didn’t Raven want to get rid of the thing that made him go berserk? But he’d agreed, and the older man handing him tools, sitting so close Add could practically feel the heat radiating from his body wasn’t… bad.

Add had thought he could never trust another to come anywhere near him, thought he’d never get rid of the instincts to shy away and run. But now, years later, here he is, with a demon barely reaching his chest in height on his back and loudly yelling at him to hold her more properly while her butler hangs back, shaking his head with a smile.

He has a place to slouch later, even a shoulder to lean against without having to worry.

The road seems much shorter looking back on it.


End file.
